Stranger
by Ang3l S0ng
Summary: A stranger appears.


The Stranger

Zoro was the first to notice the man.

The crew were still unconscious, having taken to the free food and booze a little too carelessly. Zoro wasn't about to deny that he had enjoyed his fair share but at least he was able to fight the effects of the drug that their drinks had been laced with.

As Zoro looked over the crowd of Broque Works agents from the roof of a nearby building, he saw him. A quiet, mysterious stranger. Within such a crowd it would have been all too easy to overlook him and never realize it. Even easier by the way the man seemed to fade into the shadows like he was apart of them. For all the swordsman knew, he could have been. Zoro had no doubt that if he wanted to vanish completely he wouldn't have any trouble doing so.

His eyes had just flicked over him as he did with all the agents below. All faces he would forget seeing by the end of the night. But instead of moving on, instead of forgetting even looking in that direction a second later, something pulled his gaze back. He felt drawn to the man casually leaning against the side of a building, far enough from the agents to clearly suggest that he wasn't with them but close enough to be concealed by the plethora of people.

There was something about the man. Something important that Zoro just couldn't seem to grasp at. Something just out of reach. He couldn't feel any hostility from him but he could feel power. It was a similar feeling he got from Mihawk. That feeling of incomprehensible strength hidden just below the surface of a calm façade. This man was not one they should mess with.

Zoro had to fight the strong urge to check on his crewmates. He didn't know where the urge came from. It seemed to have just tapped him on the shoulder and gotten his attention. He wasn't worried. He trusted the others – unconscious or not – could protect themselves, but the urge was still there. It was like he just wanted to see them, reassure himself that they were still there like he knew they would be.

The feeling was as strange as the man causing it.

The agents finally noticed him and he set to work on disposing of them. He'd be damned if he let these idiots harm his crew. While he did so, he kept the man in the corner of his eye. He felt the man's eyes on him, watching his every move as he fought. He felt himself becoming conscious of every step he took, as if he was being assessed.

When the fight had all but finished, leaving only the stronger few to take care of, Zoro noticed the man had gone.

He had a strange and unnerving feeling that he would see that man again.

And he did.

Not even a week later.

Zoro had taken advantage of the cold climate of the winter island they had docked at to train himself for future occasions such as these. It was likely they would run across another winter based island later in their journey and he would not let a stupid thing like the weather effect his strength.

Once again, he was alone when he felt the stranger's presence. The others had gone to bring Nami to a doctor. Again that _something_ was held just out of his reach. That _something_ that made him feel desperate, like he was running but not getting anywhere.

This time was different though. This time the stranger stood in front of him in the open. No shadows to melt into. Nothing but stark white snow, a few trees, and Zoro.

The relaxed way the stranger stood – hands in the pockets of his warm black coat and shoulders slumped slightly – threw him off. Maybe it was because Zoro himself was so tense in the stranger's presence, or maybe it wasn't his stance at all that hit him so hard he lost the ability to breathe. Maybe it was the fact that Zoro _knew_ the stranger.

He didn't know how or why but he _knew._ And that feeling of not being able to catch up, not being able to understand grew all the stronger.

The stranger didn't do anything. He stood there and looked at him, as if sizing him up. He tried to make out his features, _something_ to tell him why he knew this man.

The stranger contrasted against the background of white and grey the frozen land supplied, black coat standing out almost painfully obvious. The hood was up, frustratingly preventing him from knowing who was standing here. Who was watching him with a gaze that pierced through the shadow hiding his eyes and straight into his very being.

He wanted to speak. He wanted to open his mouth and demand to know who he was. Why he was following them, him. He got as far as parting his lips and yet nothing came out but a small breath of air turning to a fog before his eyes and disappearing just as quick.

The stranger moved and every muscle in Zoro's body contracted, their soreness from the cold doubling as they ache in protest at the sudden command to do something. He watched with sharp eyes as he brought his hand up to his head, resting it on top of the hood. He didn't move for a brief moment before seeming to catch himself and instead his lips curled into what he thought was supposed to be a smile but looked more like a grimace.

He should say something.

He _wanted_ to say something.

But he found words seemed to feel dull in this situation. Like they couldn't possibly convey his thoughts properly. So instead he opted for taking a step forward.

The stranger's attention shot to the movement in less then a second. His body went ridged and Zoro felt his gaze meet his own. The stranger opened his mouth and Zoro waited with baited breath, to hear him speak, to hear his voice, to hear his words.

But they never came.

The ground rumbled beneath their feet, a boom that rivalled that of thunder echoed through the air and his eyes darted past the stranger to see a wall of white crumbling, rolling over itself towards them.

He didn't even realize the stranger was suddenly gone. Unnerved Zoro tried not to dwell on the fact that he hadn't noticed the stranger leave his field of vision. Nor did he dwell on the words that weren't spoken.

Or the fact that the perfect white snow surrounding where the stranger stood not a moment before was just that, perfect.

No footprints.

He chose to ignore it all in favour of running from the wave of ice and snow.


End file.
